


Centerfold

by Ollieollieupandfree



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Lúcio is also mentioned and appears in a text conversation but he isnt actually here, Lúcio is paraplegic bc i said so, M/M, Paraplegia, Romance, based off of centerfold by the j giles band, honestly im just in a big bapcio mood, its just Baptiste and his Feelings, there is a severe lack of content in the bapcio tag so ill make it myself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-17 21:07:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28606449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ollieollieupandfree/pseuds/Ollieollieupandfree
Summary: Baptiste finds a magazine with a rather interesting photoshoot of his boyfriend, international DJ and revolutionist Lúcio.
Relationships: Jean-Baptiste Augustin/Lúcio Correia dos Santos
Kudos: 8





	Centerfold

**Author's Note:**

> Anyway, this is only the start of my Overwatch fics. I'm not very good at the characters JUST yet because I haven't written them except in RP. I'm gonna write more! I actually have a lot planned. I'm going to do a series of Orisa and Efi's everyday adventures after Doomfist's escape (with a few more serious fics mixed in) and a series of just the MEKA team doing domestic stuff and being kids and falling in love and stuff.
> 
> Oh also! I really like the idea/theory that Lúcio is paralyzed and that's why he only has armor on his legs. The creators confirmed that he had legs, not that they worked ;) (I think). In my headcanon, he's been paralyzed since he was young but his father created the first prototypes of Lúcio's armor at that time and so Lúcio grew up in a similar device and that's how he's learned capoeira, soccer, hockey, and his dancing. His father then worked for Vishkar because Vishkar promised him funding for more advanced versions of the skates (which Lúcio eventually stole back from Vishkar after his father's death) which could help not only Lúcio but people like him all across the world.
> 
> All right, that's enough of my rambling! Onto the story!

It wasn’t often that Baptiste stopped in at convenience stores. They were convenient, yes, but the food wasn’t exactly nutritious and they were small, cramped. Bad places for a man on the run to be in, because he could very easily be recognized. Not that Baptiste really thought that anyone in this small town in the middle of Mexico was working with Talon, but he could never be too careful. Unfortunately, however, the gas station attached to the convenience store didn’t have card readers on the machines, so he’d had to go in to pay. And since he was in there, he figured he should probably grab a few water bottles and at least a small snack. Of course there were none of the healthier snacks that Baptiste knew would be better for him when he was on the road. Less likely to make it so he had to stop, would keep him from getting hungry for longer. But the man had a sweet tooth few knew about, and he liked indulging it every once and a while. Or everyday.

“Do you like Lúcio?” Baptiste jumped at being suddenly addressed as he was trying to find a snack and nearly dropped the water bottles he had tucked under his arm. It was a younger woman than him that spoke to him, standing a few feet away. Baptiste internally cursed himself for being startled by a woman likely half his age or just a bit more.

“Huh?” It was by no means an intelligent answer, but Baptiste was sure that the young woman hadn’t expected an intelligent answer out of him after seeing how he jumped about a foot into the air.

“Your sweater.” Baptiste looked down at his chest and laughed a bit. It was a hoodie that Lúcio had insisted on him taking the last time Baptiste had been able to visit him. Baptiste had had a different hoodie that he’d been wearing, but Lúcio had declared it was far too ripped and dirty to actually keep him warm and as such had commandeered it and given Baptiste a hoodie of his own. He’d honestly forgotten that he’d put it on that morning.

“Oh. Right. Yes.” He was really hitting it out of the park with these eloquent answers.

“He did a photoshoot in some magazine, he’s on the cover, too, if you want to see.” Baptiste blinked and looked around, like she was now talking to someone other than him. What an odd thing to say to a person you don’t know very well. His Spanish hadn’t been used since his Talon days, maybe he had heard her wrong.

“Oh.” Did she work with the magazine or something? Or maybe here. “Okay.”

Lúcio hadn’t mentioned a photoshoot when they’d called yesterday. But then again, it wasn’t like he mentioned everything he did. The younger man had surprised Baptiste when they’d first started dating- he didn’t talk about himself nearly as much as Baptiste had expected him to. Mostly, Lúcio liked hearing about Baptiste and what he was doing. Which Baptiste wasn’t opposed to telling him. He trusted Lúcio, scarily enough. He also wanted to support Lúcio, so there was no harm in looking at the magazine, once the girl was gone, of course. He didn’t want to seem like a weirdo. Not that he probably already did, but oh well.

He waited until she’d left the store and then a bit longer, doing his best to remember what Lúcio’s favorite candy was so he could take it to him. It wasn’t too long now, about another day or the night if Baptiste drove straight through. Which didn’t seem like such a bad idea, if Baptiste thought about it. Driving was fine and all but Baptiste would much rather just get to Lúcio as quickly as he could so he could relax for a few weeks.

For a man who still lived in the same house in the same favela he had since he was a kid, Lúcio’s house was quiet. There weren’t many reporters, there weren’t fans all around, it was just a home. Then again, not many people knew Lúcio still lived in that house. He’d shown his studio off on some celebrity house show that Baptiste hadn’t actually watched, so most just assumed he lived there. Of course, Lúcio almost did. Baptiste had had to drag Lúcio away from his studio once after the man had spent three days holed up there working on a song. But the point was that Lúcio’s was safe. So Baptiste always stayed there for a while longer than he did other places with people he cared about. He wished it was safe to spend as much time with Rosaline as with Lúcio, but not everything could be perfectly like he wanted.

Once Baptiste is sure that the girl is gone and nobody is looking at him he takes his snack and Lúcio’s favorite candy - it’s skittles. He had to text the man to ask. Lúcio had laughed and asked why, but Baptiste had just said it was a surprise. - and went to the magazine aisle. The convenience store was a bit larger than most, so Baptiste was alone in the aisle. Baptiste had at first been worried he wouldn’t find the magazine the girl meant - Lúcio had an awful habit of getting on the covers of things - but luckily there was only one in this aisle, and it was in English. Lúcio was on the cover as Baptiste had expected, looking like his normal cheerful self. Baptiste wasn’t quite sure what he expected when he opened the magazine. Lúcio did lots of photosheets, most were just of him in his usual outfit, candids of him in the studio or playing soccer in the street. Baptiste had seen one that he was sure hadn’t been planned of Lúcio losing control of his soccer ball. The ball was heading straight toward the camera and Lúcio was in the background of the photo with a panicked look, reaching out toward either the ball or the photographer. Baptiste had it in his wallet and took it out when he wanted to tease Lúcio.

However the photos in the magazine were… not that. They were not that at all. Lúcio wasn’t in his studio or the street. There was no soccer ball, no turntables. Even his skates were gone. Many of the shots were just Lúcio in normal model poses. Standing up, posing, looking gorgeous. It was the biggest picture on the next page that caught his eye. Well, to call it a picture was a lie. It was a centerfold, two pages taken up by a photo of Lúcio. He was standing up, leaning against something. He wasn’t wearing a shirt and the jeans they’d put him in were low on his hips, so low Baptiste could see the sharp jut of his hip bones. Lúcio’s guitar was next to him. Baptiste knew it was Lúcio’s guitar, because there was a blue painted JBA just under the fret marker for the third fret. Baptiste had gotten the guitar for him, so the first time Lúcio restrung it, they’d painted that. A small way for Lúcio to show who gave him the guitar, but not enough to reveal Baptiste’s identity.

It was strange, looking at a photo of his boyfriend shirtless, pants low, leaning against something and looking almost… Baptiste shook his head clear of any odd thoughts and looked back at the picture, trying to focus on it in a normal way. Lúcio was standing. They never would have gotten this clean a pose if he was laying down. Baptiste wondered how they got him to stand. The photographer would have to be someone Lúcio had hired and brought with him, then.

Nobody in the world knew that Lúcio was paraplegic- save for his doctors and Baptiste. He kept it hidden well, appearing everywhere in his skates and the augments for his legs. Lúcio had shown Baptiste how they worked once. They send small, short electric shocks to his legs, stimulating his muscles just enough that Lúcio is able to move his legs the smallest bit and the actual augments do the rest. And when he didn’t want to go through the trouble, Lúcio had a wheelchair and a disguise that worked surprising wonders.

It was strange to see Lúcio’s legs now. Usually he hated showing them. They were even skinnier than the rest of his body, and Lúcio was convinced they were too short and that’s why he was short- despite Baptiste informing him that they were perfectly average length for his height. Baptiste had seen Lúcio’s chest before, of course. Most people had. He liked to take his shirt off during concerts if it got too hot, so the whole world knew about the frog on his breastbone. Of course, Baptiste was the only one who had ever been allowed to kiss it, and the one on Lúcio’s shoulder, the one on his spine, and everywhere else that Lúcio allowed him to. But the world rarely got to see Lúcio’s legs.

Sure, they were covered by jeans, but Baptiste's mind immediately flashed to every morning when he’d wake up and help Lúcio stretch them. They were simple exercises, any good medic knew them. Folding the leg up to the patient’s chest and then back down. Rolling their hip to the side and back, massaging their calf. They were exercises usually only used for coma patients or patients expected to be able to walk again soon, but Lúcio needed his legs not to atrophy any more than they already had for his skates to work. So Baptiste, when he came to visit, always took over Lúcio’s bodyguards - who were actually nurses that were just intimidating - job of exercising his legs. It was a very intimate exercise, at least when Baptiste was doing it to Lúcio. Holding his leg like that, watching his face for any sign of discomfort. The quiet sound of his breathing, the sound of Lúcio humming.

It was something Lúcio didn’t like, Baptiste knew. It made him feel helpless and fragile, like he was completely reliant on Baptiste or his bodyguards. But it made Baptiste happy to be able to help Lúcio, especially in something he knew that Lúcio was embarrassed about. A small sign of Lúcio’s trust in him.

There was nothing particularly intimate about the photograph in this magazine. Lúcio looked attractive, but it didn’t feel invasive. The only thing about it that was, was the glaring presence of Lúcio’s legs in frame. And even then, nobody probably noticed. Oh, sure, some would see it and comment about it on Lúcio’s Hollogram or their little internet threads and such, but that was all. Which meant it was solely Baptiste that it made… not uncomfortable, but unnerved. To have something so close to his intimate memories with Lúcio just out in the open.

“Are you going to buy that?” Once again, Baptiste was surprised by the voice suddenly addressing him. He jumped again, jerking back to awareness and away from the hole he was glaring into the magazine in his hands.

“Ah… yes.” He probably should. It would be weird otherwise. He cleared his throat awkwardly and followed the employee up to the cash register, handing him the items Baptiste had grabbed and paying for the gas before leaving as quickly as he could.

Baptiste was in the car by the time he actually thought to text Lúcio. He rolled his eyes at himself and pulled his phone out of his pocket. The road was quite literally empty. Baptiste very rarely took main roads, preferring less traveled ones to avoid risk. It took him longer to get places, but it was ultimately safer for people other than him.

_ ‘Just saw your new photoshoot.’  _ Baptiste sent, keeping his other hand on the wheel of the car. He preferred old cars like this. No chance of someone hacking it, even if Sombra almost always had good intentions for him.

_ ‘Oh, cool! They wanted to get me to pose with a different guitar but I wouldn’t let them.’  _ The reply came almost instantly and Baptiste briefly wondered what Lúcio was doing - or not doing - that allowed him to respond so quickly.

_ ‘I figured that might have been the case with it. Was that in exchange for showing your legs?’  _ Baptiste winced. That sounded a bit too accusatory, and that wasn’t at all what he was going for.  _ ‘You look good in jeans.’ _

_ ‘Aw, you think so? Yeah, I said if they let me keep your guitar in it, I’d wear actual pants for the photoshoot. Glad I did, since you seem to like them.’ _

_ ‘You’ll have to show me what they look like in real life.’  _ Baptiste had always been a bit of a flirt. It had gotten him into trouble many times over the years, but Lúcio always took it in stride, even if the younger man was pretty awful at flirting back.

_ ‘Take me on a proper date next time you’re here and I will. ;p’ _

Baptiste looked at the text, then at the time on his phone and grinned to himself.  _ ‘How about tomorrow night?’ _

For about three minutes, there was nothing. Repeatedly the typing bubble popped up, but Lúcio didn’t say anything. Baptiste laughed to himself. He knew why, of course. Most likely Lúcio was working himself into a fit of excitement over the knowledge that Baptiste was coming to visit and was close enough to be there by tomorrow night.

_ ‘Sounds perfect, I’ll expect you then.’  _ Lúcio always sounded so professional when he got excited. Despite being the ray of excitable sunshine he was, he often liked to try and tone it down so he didn’t seem annoying. Baptiste would never find it annoying, but he did have to admit that Lúciosounding professional was pretty funny.

_ ‘Great. See you soon, angel!’ _

**Author's Note:**

> As always, don't forget to give kudos if you liked it, and I would adore comments! Want to tell me everything I've gotten wrong here in a constructive and helpful way? Want to praise me for my genius? Just want to ramble about BapCio? Let me know in the comments!! They're all appreciated and even if I don't respond to them all, I read every single one over and over! I even have a special folder in my email for emails notifying me of comments.
> 
> Want to yell at me for being a Lúcio main? Divebomb my inbox the way I do your snipers at my tumblr, we-need-a-sexy-skeleton! (Minus the exclamation mark, of course)


End file.
